


Things You Can Do with a Brush

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-23
Updated: 2006-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Inspired by Dean's comment in Hookman.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

"Hold still."  
  
Hard to do with the feather light kisses moving down his back. Dean tries not to wriggle but it's tough. Not just because it tickles, but because of what it is. He's dying to see but that's impossible, unless of course, he's suddenly possessed by Linda Blair.   
  
"How much longer?"  
  
"Another minute. Almost done." Sam licks his lips and Dean can hear it. Pictures it. That sweet tongue swiping over that pouty mouth. So juicy and suckable and . . . his hips jerk involuntarily and Sam curses. "I told you to hold still." He slaps Dean's bare ass as a reminder. "Should have waited until you were asleep."  
  
And miss this? Miss this incredible, indescribable feeling that's running through his body? No way. Dean holds his breath and contracts his muscles. Hold still. Hold still. Ignore the tickle, the cool wetness, the feel of Sam's breath on his back — he's leaning that close, concentrating that hard.   
  
"Sammy. . . "  
  
"Dean."  
  
"I like it." The words a mere breath.  
  
"I love it. And I'm done. Careful though, it's not dry."  
  
Dean slips sideways, off the bed and gets his feet under him. He turns his back to the mirrored doors of the closet and cranes his head to get a good look. Carefully printed symbols across the small of his back. "Tell me what it says," he asks, even though he knows.  
  
Sam slides into his arms, hooks his chin on Dean's shoulder and eyes the backwards characters in the mirror. "It says you're mine."  
  
Dean puddles inside. "Like I said, Sammy. The things you can do with a brush"


End file.
